Everything which is human is alien to me.

Everything seemed meaningless to me. All of a sudden. My own life, the lives of others, of animals of plants, the whole world. It no longer fitted together.

I have the strangest thoughts in my head, maybe I should not write them down.

It's good for me to see so many other people who are not me. That there are so many others. I feel affection for them. Most of them are doing the best they can. I am also doing the best I can.

I still don't know if things fit together, or if everything will be all right in the end. But I believe that something means something. I believe in cleansing the soul through fun and games. I also believe in love. And I have several good friends, and just one bad one.

I know a helluva lot. I'm not the only one who knows these things. Many people know more than I do. That's fortunately not my problem. My problem is what I am supposed to use it for. What do I do with it? It's confusing.

The only question that really counts, must be thins one: are things getting better or are they getting worse?

…I don’t wish to meet people. They disgust me. Increasingly so. But I must have milk.

There are too many confusing things present. Things I know. Thoughts I have. Sarcasm. Things I think I ought to be doing and places I ought to be going. Always other places.

When the universe is ephemeral, one can easily feel that human existence is meaningless. Why should I do anything at all? On the other hand it is tempting to try and make the best of it. I'm here, anyway. The imagination won't cope if I try to picture where I'd otherwise be.

I think I'm more concerned with things that are very big and things that are very small than with all the stuff in between.